Healing
by XxBrownEyedGrlxX
Summary: Two Shot Hunger Games AU. Killian and Emma grow up in District 4 together, content in their friendship and their unbreakable routine. Normalcy, however, is violently ripped away from them the day of the reapings.


**Yeah, I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. But! Its CS AU month and this sort of just came to me so I whipped it up. Not great, but this is my first time writing these characters and I'm actually **_**really **_**nervous,**__**so be gentle? Lol There's some pretty big ooc-ness on Killian's part btw so I understand if you hate it xD**

**Anyways, Hunger Games AU, just a two-shot, btw ^^ It's more angst than action, in fact the Games are pretty much just glanced over, but you're not missing much. I can't write action scenes for crap. Anyways, I kinda sorta fan cast young Emma and young Milah as Britt Robertson and Anna Popplewell, respectively. As for Killian, I haven't found someone who's like absolutely perfect in my mind, but I hear Logan Lerman is apparently a popular choice? So I kinda imagine him even though I definitely don't see it as much as everyone else xD**

**Also, fair warning: In my attempt to make this thing **_**not **_**be a carbon copy of Peeta & Katniss it **_**kind **_**of turned into a carbon copy of **_**another**_** well-liked couple, sorry :'D**

_I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts_

_I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out_

For the first sixteen years, Emma Nolan's life was no different than any other middle-class citizen of district four. She grew up near the water and thus was extremely adept at swimming, fishing, and the like. She had loving parents, and a little brother who she'd do anything for, and a best friend who'd always been there for her.

She could hardly remember a time when Killian Jones hadn't been in her life, a part of that stemmed from the fact that he'd lived next to her for her for as long as she could remember, but they didn't strike up their infamous friendship until she was seven and he nine. Before then she'd merely seen the ebony-haired boy from afar when venturing down to the docks with her father. As was natural at that age, they'd taken an immediate dislike of each another, but when their parents assured them that there was no danger of cooties, and little Emma stopped threatening to clock him, they found they could actually get along rather well. It wasn't _all_ smooth sailing since then, but Emma liked to believe that's when they became as inseparable as they are now. Killian always insisted it was when she was ten and stopped acting like a little girl all the time.

Regardless of _when _they stopped tolerating each other and started genuinely enjoying each other's company, Emma had never been able to entertain the thought of a life without him. Mostly because she'd never _had_ to. He wasn't going anywhere and neither was she; he was a constant in her life. Killian told her he'd never leave her alone, and she believed him. The fact that they simply _couldn't _leave District 4 had no impact on the amount of faith she had in him.

For years, they had a routine that neither ever broke. After she finished with her classes, and he'd finished up his work down at the docks, they'd meet in a secluded area of the beach and spent time talking, swimming, fishing, (The latter two usually ended up in a competition of some sort) or whatever else they felt like doing that day. They'd stay there until the sun went down before walking home together. Sometimes he'd come have supper at her place, sometimes she'd go to his, or sometimes they'd simply go their own ways.

It wasn't as if they were joined at the hip, though. They simply didn't have anyone else to spend their time with. They were both loners by nature and found it easier to spend time with fewer people when they didn't feel like being completely alone. Sure, it gathered some strange looks around the little fishing village where everyone seemed to want to be friends with everyone else, but it worked for them. It was their own little version of normal and they had no intentions of changing that.

Despite their wishes, though, normalcy came to a screeching halt the day of the annual reaping. They all gathered like lambs to the slaughter in the square, still, there wasn't the same sense of fear on reaping day in district four as there was in the lower districts. For as long as she could remember, there'd always been volunteers in the little fishing district. Never as many as in one and two, but enough so that those who didn't want to participate in the games didn't need to worry too much.

She remembered the reaping after her twelfth birthday, how scared she'd been. Killian had assured her that'd he'd been through it twice before already, and that she had nothing to worry about.

"_But what if it's me, this year?" _She remembered asking, trying to conceal the fear she felt from him.

"_You've nothing to worry about, lass. District 4 has no shortage of volunteers." _He'd responded soothingly, pretending not to notice the small sniffle she'd accidently let slip. _"And even if we did, first years hardly ever get picked. You're safe, I promise."_

She'd simply smiled and nodded in response, because as strange as it sounded, she'd believed him 100%. He was right that year, as well as all of the following years. When that time of year came around, Emma no longer worried, horrible as it was, because the Games simply never affected her personally.

The Gods had a sense of humor, though, it seemed, as the year that no one volunteered in District 4, was also the year that the escort had reached his hand into the paper-filled glass bowl, and pulled out a small strip with the name _Killian Jones_ neatly scrawled on its surface.

Suddenly the idea that she'd ever have to be without him didn't seem so senseless. In fact it seemed like a very, _very_, real possibility. Suddenly, the reality of the Games was staring her right in the face.

When she went to see him that day, she passed his parents while they were on their way out from saying goodbye to him. His mother had tear streaks marring her face, and Emma could practically feel the despair radiating off the poor red-headed woman. His father, who'd always been rather stoic in comparison to her own father, was desperately trying to console her, while doing a marvelous job of concealing his own distress. Though he may not be quite as affectionate as his wife was with their son, Emma knew he loved Killian dearly.

She almost didn't want to look their way. Emma was barely functioning as it was, she couldn't even imagine the Jones' pain at sending their oldest child and only son to his death, and being completely unable to stop it. Still, she needed to say _something; _even if it was just the same meaningless 'I'm sorry' they'd no doubt heard a thousand times today.

"I – um, how is he?" she questioned tentatively. Emma inwardly cringed. She had always been so _awful_ at being consoling. It was probably because of the fact that, when she was upset she wanted to shout at anyone who dared approach her. She wanted to curl up and be alone and never face another human being until she'd made peace with the situation and hated when people treated her as if she was made of glass because she was having a hard time. In fact, if she could just be alone right now, that would be _stupendous_, but she wouldn't give up saying goodbye to him for anything in the world.

Not everyone was quite as introverted as Emma, though, and she knew from years of experience that sweet, sensitive, Ariel was the type to need a shoulder to cry on. The woman had been a second mother to her for years, so it only seemed right.

She looked up; dark blue eyes that reminded her painfully of her son's widened as if she'd just realized Emma was there. "Oh, Emma," She sobbed, trying hard to compose herself. "I just can't believe I'm going to lose him. He's trying _so _hard to be strong. I just feel so helpless." She sniffled, choking back the tears that threaten to fall faster. She wanted to help her little boy, she wanted to hold him and never let him go, but there was absolutely nothing in her power she could do to save him. If she could, she'd take his place in a heartbeat, but it wasn't an option. All she could do was hope and pray he'd survive. She stepped away from her husband and placed a firm hand on Emma's shoulder.

"Please, Emma, he cares _so _much about you, please just _try _and talk to him about all this. I – I don't think it's really sunk in for him, yet."

She didn't know what the hell she could possibly do for Killian now, nevertheless she nodded anyway. Even if it was a lie, she wouldn't deny the woman this small comfort. "I'll try my best." She responded in a small voice with a weak smile. All Ariel could do was nod with a sad smile while her husband gently led her away.

Emma found herself wishing they'd stayed. The closer she inched to the door, the more she dreaded this. Being _any_ kind of vulnerable was foreign to her, but it was simply how she felt. She may very well be losing not just her closest friend, but her _only_ friend. Their special spot in a secluded part of the beach wouldn't hold the same warmth it once did; it would feel cold and empty. She wouldn't be able to go down to the docks or out on the ships without being reminded of his unmatched enthusiasm for the sea and all the wonders it held. She wouldn't even be able to look out her own window and see the cozy little home a few yards away knowing it no longer housed him.

She could feel the accursed tears pricking her eyes thinking of how different her life would be like now, but like always, Emma Nolan pushed forward. With a shaky sigh, she opened the door.

He looked the same as he always did shaggy dark hair, deep blue eyes, and a smile that could make even her darkest days feel okay. Throughout her life she'd seen him more times than even she could count, however, knowing this very well may be the last time she ever saw him, she found herself taking the time to appreciate him more. Should this really be the end for them, she wanted to remember every detail, every laugh line, and every quirk of his infuriating dark eyebrows. Were the circumstances not quite so serious, he'd probably have made some lewd comment about how she couldn't get enough of the sight him.

As soon as her eyes found his, she rushed into his embrace without a word, and he gladly returned it.

"I can't believe this," She muttered into his chest. "Out of _everyone_, why did it have to be you?" she pulled away and looked up at him.

Much to her annoyance, the guy had the audacity to shrug. "Better me than you, Emma."

Emma laughed a horribly bitter laugh. "Maybe to _you."_ She said accusingly. The truth was, if she could take his place, she would, but she was only eligible to take a female tribute's place.The girl chosen was around Killian's age, a woman she scarcely knew at all, let alone someone she'd take the place of. Besides, him going in there was bad enough. Her going in with him where the possibility they'd be pitted against one another would be extremely high? That was an unbearable fate. She'd die before she willingly hurt him for the Capitol's amusement.

"How can you be so calm about all this?" She demanded after a beat. Ariel was right; he looked as if this was a normal occurrence for him, and that everything would be back to normal in the morning. _If only. _"I might never see you again; _your family_ might never see you again. Your _mom_, your _dad_, _Melody_? What about them?"

He looked down, and for the first time that day she saw something other than mild indifference cross his face. "I know, and I _am _sorry, love." He replied soberly, barely looking up to meet her eyes. "But there's nothing you, or I, or _anyone_ can do about it." He sighed gravely, as if urging her to understand. But it wasn't understanding that was the problem. She _did _understand. If anyone understood pushing down how they felt because it made things easier it was Emma. But it didn't mean she had to be happy with it. "This is the hand I've been dealt, and I _will_ fight like hell to get back to you - to everyone," he backtracked. "I promise you that, but I'm trying to be realistic here."

"Realistic?" She repeated. "So you don't think you're going to come out of this alive and you play it off as if it's a casual thing?" She asked disbelievingly. "Killian if you truly believe you're going to die then _now_ is the time to tell your family, your friends, _everyone_, how much you love them." She urged. "Don't act like everything is okay for our sakes, _please_."

There was a long pause were he simply looked at her, his dark blue eyes suddenly turning heavy, when finally, he heaved a sigh in defeat. "You're right, Emma." He admitted, averting his gaze to the floor again. If he was being truthful, he _was _scared. He didn't bloody _want_ this, or the gruesome end that no doubt awaited him. He wanted to stay here with his family, with Emma. But there was a heavy truth in her words. He couldn't walk in and face death knowing Emma would never know how much he _truly_ cared for her. "If this truly is to be the last time we see each other, I want you to know how much I care about you."

Emma offered him the best smile she could muster at the moment and nodded, willing the tears in her eyes away. She knew if she cried that it would be justified, but she didn't want to. While he was so busy worrying about soothing her fears or his mother's fears, she was worried for _him. _Despite the fact that he'd never ask for it, he needed her strength more than she needed his.

"I love you."

She had to blink rapidly in order to will the tears away this time. She wrapped her arms around his torso in another hug and replied with no hesitation, "I love you, too."

He wanted to tell her that that's not what he meant. He wanted to tell her that he loved her the way that he knew he shouldn't, the way that meant he wanted to be with her, forever. Instead, he simply held her tighter and placed a feather-light kiss at the top of her head. They stayed like that until there was a knock at the door that signaled the end of their time together. He pretended not to notice that his shirt was damp where she'd been leaning into him, he also pretended not to notice the smeared moisture on her cheeks or the slight redness in her eyes as the peacekeepers led her away. His beautiful, brave, lass. If there was one person whose memory would give him the strength he needed to get out of this horrible mess, it was hers. He hadn't been lying when he said he'd fight to get back to her, and if he made it out, _then _he'd tell her everything.

The longest two weeks of her life later, she should have been able to heave a tearful sight of relief when the last tribute fell and it wasn't him. She should have cheered with the rest of her district at not only her own personal victory, but the victory of her entire village. Instead, she felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

Killian was alive, he'd _won, _and there was a part of her that simply wished she'd forget everything else and celebrate that fact for all it was worth. But a darker part of her mind told her nothing would be the same.

When the 24 tributes first went into the arena, she _already_ didn't want to watch. She'd seen the interviews and his score, and he actually hadn't been that bad off all things considered. He was actually a fan favorite; he was a physical threat sure, but what those in the Capitol paid attention to was his physical appearance, a fact that she was _sure _he'd smirk at under any other circumstance. Emma wanted to be disgusted, but if it kept him alive they could ogle him all they wanted. But she still couldn't handle the thought that one single slip up could cost him his life. Because it was the law, though, she'd been left with little choice but to watch it all, from bloodbath to finale.

As the games went on, though, Emma became more and more uncomfortable watching them. It was different when she knew one of the tributes personally, and seeing him struggle and fight to survive made it all the more worse. Seeing him nursing the injuries he'd received, almost dying on numerous occasions, and passing out from dehydration wasn't something she wanted to see, and she was sure he loathed the fact that _everyone_, not just her, was watching him at home. This feeling was made all the more worse when Killian met _her. _

It had started halfway through the first week. The arena was a forested area with very little water, and what little there was, was usually guarded by the careers, and they seemed intent to make Killian their target this year, so he did his best to steer clear of them. This left Killian bereft of food and water. He'd tried numerous times to hunt, but it hardly ever came with desirable results. When he'd found a cave to rest his head in for the night, he was surprised to find it was already occupied.

Her name was Milah, the female tribute from District 10; she was 18, with dark curls and beautiful light blue eyes. She'd immediately gone on the defensive when Killian appeared, but it was clear she didn't have the means to defend herself. The past few days had acquainted Killian with what if felt like to kill someone, and it wasn't a good feeling. However, he'd do what he had to in order to survive this place and get back home. Still, he was exhausted and slowly starving. He could have salvaged the energy, but for the fear and gradual acceptance of her supposed fate crossing over her eyes. He told her in a hard voice he wasn't going to kill her, someone would eventually, and it wasn't as if she could hurt him.

Reluctantly, they'd agreed to share the cave in a temporary alliance, and as it turned out, Milah did have her uses. She was a talented hunter and (albeit, begrudgingly) shared her kills with Killian, who was all too happy to accept. After a close encounter with the boy from 12 the morning after (which ended badly for him), they agreed to a more permanent arrangement. She'd handle food and water, and he'd protect her. Four eyes were better than none, after all, and if they could carry each other to the final 4, they'd end it there.

As it turned out, they _did _make it to the final 4, along with the boy from 2 and the girl from 1. They had just been ready to part ways; end it before it got messy when…

_That_ is precisely where things got more complicated. She wasn't Killian. She didn't know how he felt about all this. But what she _did _know was the look in his eyes when he heard her scream, the frantic way he'd run after her after a slight moment's hesitation. She'd seen the way he looked on in helpless fear as the boy from district 2 threw a knife straight through her heart. She'd seen the way he caught her as she fell down in a lifeless heap, and the way he'd been reluctant to let the Capitol helicopter take away her body. And while she cringed at the memory, she'd also seen the number he'd done on 2 after he'd gotten his hands on him. It was the kill that won him the hunger games, and as much as she didn't want to believe it, he _enjoyed_ it.

A small, _miniscule_, part of her had almost felt a tiny twinge of jealousy, before she angrily snapped that it was ridiculous. Sure, he'd picked a hell of a time to find a girl, but the fact that he'd done so in the first place definitely shouldn't be her main concern, and it wasn't. Her main concern was how this was going to affect _him_. He'd grown close to the girl and watched the life drain from her eyes. She saw the person he became for that half an instant when he buried the ax he'd pilfered from the corpse of a District 7 tribute into the chest of 2.

She, and the rest of the world, had seen one of the most vulnerable moments in his life, and straight after Milah had been killed she tried to stop watching. She snuck out whenever it was on, only for Peacekeepers to escort her back home or to the square where there was a public viewing for all to see.

It wasn't that she thought of him any differently, simply that she knew him well enough to know that he'd hate the fact that the entire world saw his pain, his struggle, and pitied him. He hardly liked feeling that way in front of her _alone._

She knew things were going to be different when he returned, wildly different, but a small, selfish, and hopelessly optimistic part of her prayed that nothing would change regarding them. That he'd always be _her_ Killian, and she'd always be _his _Emma.

When he'd finally hopped off the train back into District 4, Emma found that the change was _far_ worse than she originally thought. She thought he'd push everyone away and try to deal with his losses by himself. She thought that eventually, they'd work past all of this together. She thought…

…She didn't know what she'd thought. Whatever she'd had in mind for them, though, it certainly wasn't this. He'd come back with his bright smile plastered on his face, playing the part of the happy victor perfectly. Only his façade never slipped. Not around her, not around his family, not around anyone. The only reason she knew all of this? Because she'd heard from his _mother._ She'd only asked because he sure as hell wasn't going out of his way to speak with her. Instead of pushing everyone away like she'd expected, he was content to simply push _her _away.

From the time he'd set foot back onto District 4 sand, he'd spoken with her maybe twice. She tried, _God's _did she try to get him to speak with her, to have some semblance of normalcy back in their lives, but every time she tried he looked at her with hard eyes and spoke to her in an edged voice, as if _she_ was the one who killed that girl.

Emma knew how to take a hint, and from then on she'd tried to give him his space. Her mother, bless her heart, assured her that he'd come to her in time and things would go back to normal eventually. More than anything, Emma wanted to believe that, but the more she tried, the more she realized she may have lost him. He was going _out of his way_ to avoid her, and that feat was made all the more easy by the fact that he'd packed up and moved into his home in Victor's village as soon as possible. Emma understood space, but she could only venture to their spot in the afternoon only for it to be completely empty so many times before she realized she was only kidding herself.

A few months had passed since Killian's return and while Emma knew that wasn't exactly enough time to adjust to everything for him, her hope that things could go back to normal had dwindled completely. She tried not the think about the way he avoided her gaze on the rare occasions she saw him around the District. Thinking about it made it hurt all the more, so she buried it and went on with her daily life. She wasn't going to fall apart simply because she'd lost her best friend, especially not when she knew he was probably suffering a lot more than she was. She'd never be able to understand the things he'd gone through, she'd merely watched them from a spectator's point of view, which is why she always felt guilty when twinges of anger or sadness would creep up on her. It wasn't about her, it was about _him._ But maybe that's why it hurt so much. She _wanted _to understand. She _wanted _to be there for him, and focus on _him, _but he wouldn't let her.

However far she buried her emotions, though; eventually it all had to come out. Emma knew this lesson all too well, but simply chose to cross that bridge when she came to it.

She'd been running to the market for her mother when she finally reached her boiling point. She didn't know what the reason was, but suddenly, she began to feel everything all at once. That, along with the accompanying guilt for being selfish again caused her to abandon her destination and walk to the beaches. She needed air, but more importantly she needed to be somewhere nobody could see her, lest she do something stupid like _cry. _She knew just the place to go where she could be alone with her thoughts until all of this passed. Once she briskly walked the familiar path to the main beach and winded her way through the narrow caves that led to the tiny secluded part of the coast she was just about ready to drop onto the soft sand and never move again. When her toes felt the gentle caress of sand still wet from the earlier tide instead of the calloused cave floor, she nearly sighed in relief and almost did just that.

Imagine her surprise when she found thei-_her_ spot already occupied.

She didn't know how long he'd been there, or how long he'd been coming for that matter – she'd abandoned her trips to their spot about a month ago, so it couldn't have been longer than that, but this was the _last _thing she needed. She needed to be _alone;_ if he was here she'd surely just tell him everything that's been on her mind (because he had the annoying ability to do that without even trying) and that was _not _an idea she even wanted to _entertain._

_Of course I can count on Killian to be there when I don't want him and nowhere in sight when I do. _

He hadn't noticed her presence yet, and she should have just turned and left, let him be alone like he so _obviously _wanted to be, but she couldn't, not when she felt a surge of anger well up in her. What the _hell _was he even doing here? Had he just _waited_ for her to stop coming by before coming back here? Normally she wouldn't have cared, but she just wanted to be alone for once, and he couldn't even give her _that._ And this was _her_ spot, damn it! Well, if he didn't want to be around her so bad, he could just _get lost._ It's not like he's been having trouble doing _that_ recently.

The words had tumbled out of her mouth before she could even begin to talk herself out of it. "What are you doing here?" Maybe they were said slightly harsher than she intended, but at the moment she didn't really care. She was running on about 50% hurt and 50% rage, but she was sure she'd find the time to regret whatever it was she'd say in this encounter much later. That is, if Killian didn't just up and leave without a word.

(To be honest, she wasn't 100% sure which she'd prefer)

Aside from visibly stiffening at the sound of her voice he made no move to even look her way, which only served to enrage her further.

"Well?"

"Last I checked it was a free beach, lass." He replied curtly.

She let out a bitter scoff under her breath. "Right, well, I'm here now, so I'm sure you'll want to, y'know, _leave_." He didn't even have to turn around for her to know he was rolling his eyes.

"Not to sound like a child, Emma, but I do believe I was here first." He turned his head in her direction slightly.

"Sucks for you, because I'm not leaving." She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. If he wanted to avoid her so bad, _he_ could leave. Truth be told, though, she didn't want to spend time in a tense silence with him, either. Aside from an obviously irritated exhale, though, he didn't make any objections.

Irritated, Emma began to distance herself as far away from him as she could (which wasn't very far considering the size of the little beach) muttering a cross '_So what? Now I'm worth your time?'_ before she did so.

"I'm not even going to pretend I know what you mean." She heard him mutter. It was only moments later, after she'd already plopped herself down on the damp sand and stuck her toes in the water that she realized he was responding to her harshly uttered words, words he wasn't supposed to hear in the first place. But he had heard them, and unfortunately for her, he'd responded to them in a way that only reignited her previous anger.

"Oh please." She scoffed, rolling her emerald eyes. "You've been avoiding me ever since you came back. What? Your new Capitol fame make you realize you're too good for me?" She spat under her breath. It was a lower than low blow, and she'd definitely pushed too far, even she knew that. Emma knew that whatever reason he had for leaving her alone, it certainly wouldn't be something like that, but she didn't care. Her mind was only focused on making him feel the way she felt over the last few months.

She'd met her goal, it seemed, when he whipped his head around with a dark fury in his eyes. Well, at least she'd gotten _some_ sort of emotional reaction from him. "That's not what's going on and you know it." He growled.

"Oh, do I?" She asked harshly. "If not that, then what?"

"It's not about you, Emma." He fumed.

At that, she looked down to the sand as felt the familiar sense of guilt creep up on her. It was easy to forget when she was running on anger, but his words brought her back to reality momentarily. "Gods, don't you think I know that, Killian?" she asked, nearly cringing at the way her voice cracked desperately when she said his name. "Of _course _it isn't about me, but it's kind of hard _not_ to take it personally when _I'm _the only one you have trouble being around!" She cursed everything in the world at that moment as she felt the familiar feeling of tears welling up in her eyes. This is why she came here, right? For her inevitable breaking point? Only now _he _was here, and everything was coming to a head. "I mean why the hell is it just _me?_ I'd understand if you want to distance yourself from the entire world, but why just me?" She pleaded, not daring to look him in the eyes now.

That was the mother of all loaded questions, wasn't it? There were numerous reasons he'd tried keeping her away, none of which included him thinking she wasn't _good enough_ to be around him now, which was just stupid. Despite what she may think, being away from her was hard for him too.

It'd be easiest to simply tell her that the front he'd put up since returning would have been put in jeopardy around her. It wasn't a lie; she'd always had a knack for seeing through him as if he was transparent. He had hidden behind a careful mask since returning; not wanting to talk about the Games beyond the usual Capitol duties victor's had. He didn't speak of them and that way it was easier to forget. He may have been doing just what Emma ordered him not to do, hiding the way he felt for the benefit of the people he cared about, but this time around, it was just as much for his benefit as it was for theirs. He knew Emma would see right through that, and like with everything, he'd inevitably tell her how it was, how he felt, everything.

However, while that may have been the _simplest_ reason he could give her, it certainly wasn't the only one. He had others, and they all came back to, well, _her_.

When he'd first teamed up with Milah, it was about convenience, they helped keep each other alive and the company wasn't all that bad. He had the physical strength and the sponsors to protect them both, and she had the smarts to survive in the wooded environment and the knowledge and the means to catch food, she was also quite stealthy when she needed to be. It didn't take long to go beyond that, though, and a friendship formed. He wasn't an idiot. He could plainly see what was going on, even if Milah could never know. The way he'd quickly become protective of the older brunette girl, the way they joked around, the way he teased her. He was trying to replace Emma.

At the time, he was under the impression that he'd never see her again, that he was going to die sometime within the coming weeks. He knew it was a horrible thing to do, but he'd always been a selfish person. He didn't want to let go of her, so he found someone with a similar fire, a similar stubborn nature to hang on to until the last possible moment.

Eventually, he knew he had to stop, so he tried to get to know Milah for the person she was as opposed to the person he wanted her to be. It was one of the stupidest decisions he'd ever made in his entire life. He'd started asking her about herself, her likes, her dislikes, her favorite things, and much to his surprise, it actually _worked. _She wasn't replacement-Emma anymore, now she was just Milah, brilliant, fiery, beautiful, Milah.

Did he care for Milah in the same way he cared for Emma? No, at least _he_ didn't think so. Gods knew what the Capitol tried to turn it into on TV, but he _did _care about her. And that in itself raised a new problem. It wasn't exactly love that he felt for the dark-haired tribute, but it was enough. Enough to make him want to kill the one who killed her, enough to make him wish he had time to gouge the bloody bastards eyes out after he was finished, enough to make him resent the Capitol for forcing the situation on him at all… and enough to make him feel guilty every time he was around Emma.

Guilty that he lived and she died. Guilty that, for the majority of their time together, he was simply using her as a way to forget Emma. Guilty that he _still _wanted Emma, even now. Guilty that he couldn't protect her.

No matter which excuse he used with Emma, it would always come back to the fact that she made him forget, but in a weird way she made him remember, too. Simply being _around _her was enough to make him forget Milah and simply _be_ happy. But because she knew him so well, it was difficult to lie to her, and thus to himself, about how he felt about the rest of it all.

The question was whether he wanted to tell any of _her _this.

He knew if he gave her some half-assed excuse she'd see right through it and only get angrier, and telling her the truth wasn't something he was ready for. Before the Games he swore that if he got out of there alive, he'd tell Emma how he _really_ felt, just _how deeply_ he really loved her, but it wasn't that easy anymore. There were his conflicting feelings for Milah and his residual guilt to sort out (he couldn't even really tell the difference between the two anymore. Was he really grieving for her or was he simply feeling guilty?), as well as the fact that Emma would probably sooner hit him over the head with a rock than accept any declaration of love. _Especially _from him. And really, maybe that was best? He'd become so fucked up over the past few months, what could he really offer her? Even as a friend? Maybe it was in her best interests to just let him go.

However, he knew Emma Nolan well enough to know that she didn't appreciate decisions being made _for _her. If that was to happen _she'd _want to be the one to make that choice, and him making it for her would only cause her to fight for their damaged friendship even harder.

Before his muddled brain could figure out if he wanted to be truthful or not, she spoke up, apparently tired of waiting for his response.

"Is it… Is it her?" She asked timidly, as if he'd snap at her for merely mentioning her name. "Is it about Milah?"

To his credit, Killian didn't even flinch at the question. He should have known she'd bring it up eventually. She'd seen it just like everybody else in the whole damn world had.

Taking his silence as an affirmation she pressed on. "Killian, _please, _I don't know what happened with her or why it has to effect what we had this way, and you don't have to tell me about anything, but if you want to be done with me then at least tell me _why." _She pleaded, fisting her hands in the damp sand.

He shook his head numbly at her suggestion. "No matter what happens to either of us, I will _never _be done with you Emma,"

"Then what is all this?" she whispered. She was just ready for all of this to be over. She didn't want to have to wonder anymore what it was she'd done wrong that _she _was the one he needed to distance himself from. Even if knowing meant it was closure and it'd never be the same, it was better than torturing herself day and night over it.

"I just…I need _time_." He insisted. "Things are different now, it's just…_hard."_ He was desperate to somehow get out of this without having to explain himself. It'd be better for all involved that way, right?

"But _why?_" She implored. "_Why _is it so hard to be around me, Killian? Just _tell _me and I'll – I'll respect your wishes, I'll stay as _far_ away as you want, but it is _killing _me not knowing like this."

"Because it just feels wrong now, Emma!" He yelled. He couldn't take much more of her pleading looks, giving him an entirely different feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He'd feel guilty if he didn't tell her, he'd feel guilty if he spent his time with her, and he'd feel like an idiot if he told her. He simply couldn't win.

"What the hell does that even _mean_, Killian?" She demanded, still sounding utterly defeated.

"Exactly what is sound like," he murmured. "I wish I could change it, Emma, but I can't. I just feel… guilty when I'm around you."

"Guilty?" She questioned in shock.

He grit his teeth and attempted to press on. He told her everything, the way he'd replaced her with Milah because he didn't think he'd see her again, the way he'd learned to care for Milah on her own until she was brutally torn from him, and the way the guilt settled in his stomach like an anchor when he'd first laid eyes on her again. Because despite what happened with Milah, he _still _cared about – still _loved_ Emma. When he was around Emma he began to forget the fact that he was supposed to be grieving for Milah, all he saw was Emma, the way she smiled, the way her forehead crinkled when she was irritated with him, but the problem was that it _always _came back.

Emma remained quiet for the duration of his explanation, but _so_ many things ran through her head as he spoke. She didn't even try to respond to his confession about his…_feelings_ for her. She knew how she felt, _Gods _if there was one thing these past months have opened her eyes to it was how she felt about him. But telling him would only complicate things. It wasn't what either of them needed at the moment and would likely only cause them _both _more misery. It was a damn good thing that Emma _excelled_ at burying unwanted feelings.

But he didn't want to be around her because she made him _happy?_ She wanted to scream at him that that was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard and that it was _good_ that she made him forget his horrible experiences, but she held her tongue. He'd been through _so much_ that she couldn't even comprehend, so if time was what he needed… she'd give it to him. Regardless of how it made her feel knowing he loved her but didn't want to be around her, she'd give him whatever he wanted for however long he wanted it.

She looked up at him with eyes she _prayed_ didn't betray the way she felt on the inside and let out a shaky breath. "Okay," She brought her hand up to run through her mop of blonde hair, completely exhausted with the day's events. "I'll…I'll give you your space. However long it takes, I don't care." She insisted before her eyes softened considerably. "I just…I don't want to lose you for good."

"You won't." he said resolutely. "This is just something I need…just until I can sort everything out." Once he figured everything out, once he cleared the jumbled mess his that was his brain, everything would be fine, and he and Emma could pick up where they left off.

She nodded understandably, but didn't make any move to leave, not yet. If they had to stay away from each other for his sake for who knows how long she was going to give him a proper goodbye. Not that it was really a goodbye…merely a 'see ya later!' right?

Still, she rushed forward anyway and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight embrace, breathing a sigh of relief when he hesitantly brought his arms around her waist. She tried memorizing everything about this moment. She knew it'd help her get through everything to come, remembering this exact moment, knowing her loved her, knowing he'd wait for her.

Just like she'd wait for him, as long as it takes.


End file.
